Maybe Your Pride Will Keep You Warm
by fugaziclash
Summary: AU in which a Jotun, not Odin, discovered the abandoned Loki as a babe. When Asgard commands that 'Midgard's finest' should be sent to investigate the new king of their enemies, the Jotun, the abandoned Avengers initiative is hurriedly assembled for the task. But are the Jotun really the monsters the Asgardians say they are? Will develop into Tony/Loki.
1. Chapter One

Rule the first - Always listen to Pepper

He should have listened to Pepper.

If he had, Tony would probably be holed up in his workshop right now, a slice of pizza in one hand, AC/DC blaring nice and loud and the plans for something ridiculously awesome underway. Instead, he's standing, in temperatures cold enough to make a polar bear weep, preparing to face off with Papa Smurf's homicidal giant of a brother.

_"Sir,"_ Jarvis starts, sounding a bit distorted. _"I'm afraid I have to inform you that systems are currently operating at 5% capacity. All non-essential functions have been disabled."_

Tony watches through the suit's visor as his opponent flexes a bicep the size of his waist. There is a low rumble of anticipation from the gathered crowd of blue, deadly-looking giants. Right at the back, Tony can just make out a cluster of individuals wearing SHEILD issued arctic gear. He takes some pleasure in the fact that they seemed pretty miserable too.

"So, repulsors-"

_"All weapons are deemed non-essential. Internal heating is being lowered to ensure continued mobility."_

Great. So now he got to be miserable, cold, and soon to be dead. "Don't know if you've noticed Jarv, but that guy over there looks like he wants to eat me. I think weapons are pretty essential, given the situation."

The only response he gets is a faint hiss and crackle. "…Jarvis?"

Damn. Apparently Jarvis wasn't essential either.

Before Tony can make any attempt to re-activate his trusty AI, a sudden hush falls over the crowd. Tony looks up to see a slender, refined figure walk out and take his place on a high, icy throne overlooking the combat ring. Blue, like the rest of them, but smaller, lithe and almost beautiful in a cold, deadly way. Tony feels himself shiver as red eyes fix upon him, seeming to stare right through the suit to Tony himself. It's not that he's unsettled, of course, just that it's starting to get really damn cold.

The crowd sinks to their knees in a show of deference, as does Tony's opponent. Tony wonders for a moment whether he should follow suit, but he's got the nasty suspicion that if he was to kneel he might not be able to get the suit back standing again anytime soon. Luckily, the figure on the throne (Loki, it must be) seems to find Tony's defiance amusing, albeit not amusing enough to spare him from fighting Big-and-Icy over there.

"You may rise." Loki announces, in smooth, cultured tones. He sounds on the verge of boredom, like he has to watch fights to the death every second day and he got over the novelty of it a long time ago. The Jotun rise to their feet, and Tony goes back to feeling ridiculously small.

To compensate, he adopts a fighting stance, trying to ignore the creaking of the suit as it fights against the ice that has formed in every crevice. He might not be giant-sized, or insanely muscular, or have even a working suit, but he's still Tony Fucking Stark, and he's not going down without one hell of a fight.

From his position on the icy throne, Loki leans forward slightly, a faint smile curling his lips. Somehow, he has the feeling that this fight might be of more interest than the usual petty squabbles. The mortal in the metal suit has not yet called for mercy, or forgiveness, as those that faced Hjálmgerðr were generally prone to. No, he seemed positively fearless in the fact of near certain defeat. Loki knew that Hjálmgerðr expected to win this fight, or the brute would not have issued the challenge, but Loki find himself not so sure. He calls out into the cool air, "Let the honour-match commence!" and settles back to watch the show.

Down below, Tony stands his ground as the huge form of his opponent races towards him, ice cracking underfoot. His mind races through calculations, dismissing one futile plan of attack after another and wishing that this wasn't happening.

Damn it, he should really have listened to Pepper.


	2. Chapter Two

**Rule Two – Do not get involved in the affairs of Gods (or SHIELD)**

"What is that?"

Tony jumps almost out of his skin, hurriedly pausing the feed he'd been watching on a StarkPad. He looks over at Pepper, then at her shoes.

"How do you do that? High heels and you make no noise. Have you been taking lessons from Natasha? Because I thought we agreed that she was an example of excess sneakiness that should not be followed…"

Unfortunately, Pepper is an old pro at dealing with Tony, and knows well to tune him out when he starts his patented distraction techniques. She leans in over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the paused image on the screen before Tony can hide it.

"Is that Fury?" She doesn't sound approving.

"No, nope. Uh, didn't you know, he's got a brother that's in movies. A twin brother. This one's about snakes, Very scary, you wouldn't like it at all."

Pepper gives a long suffering sigh. "Right. And his brother also lost an eye?"

"It was a very dangerous household. Bad parenting."

She raises an eyebrow. "Hmmm. So, this movie…it's about snakes and SHEILD diplomatic meetings?"

Damn. Busted. He gives in. Pepper is just too good.

"Okay, so I might have hacked into SHEILD's CCTV a little." He holds up a hand. "Hey, they're having a party and I didn't get an invite."

"So you decided to spy on them like a creepy stalker?"

"Well, yes. But it's their own fault for having-"

"-amateurs build their systems, yes, I know." Pepper takes a seat on the couch, kicking off her heels. "Jarvis, would you kindly display the footage on the main tv?"

_"Of course, Miss Potts. Would you also care for some refreshments? I have that pistachio frozen yoghurt that you like."_

Pepper smiles. "Thank you Jarvis, You're a gentleman. I sometimes wonder just how Tony, of all people, managed to create you."

"_To be honest, Miss Potts, I sometimes find myself asking the very same question."_

Tony rolls his eyes at his AI's smug tone. "You know, Jarv, just 'cause me and Pepper split, that doesn't mean you're in with a shot."

His tone is light, but he still finds himself holding his breath for a slight moment, until Pepper's light laugh sounds and she stretches her feet out on the sofa, using Tony as a footrest. They were in a good place now, but Tony still remembers miserable months locked up in his workshop, mourning the death of the one relationship he'd actually thought might have a shot. At one point, he'd gone to do minor modifications on the Mark VI and ended up smashing the hell out of it with a super-reinforced hammer (he's calling it a strength test, one that the suit had failed. Roll on Mark VII…)

Tony relaxes back into the sofa. "Oh, and, Jarvis? I'll take some popcorn while you're at it."

_ "Very good sir. Shall I have it brought over so as not to deprive Miss Potts of her footrest?"_

"Yeah, you do that." Tony glances over at the SHEILD CCTV feed, currently frozen on screen, then at Pepper. "So, you're not planning on killing me for the hacking and spying and stuff?"

Pepper considers him for a moment. "I didn't say that." She cuts Tony off before he can respond. " I know that if I read you the riot act now, you'll just wait until I've left to watch it, in which case I wouldn't be able to tell you just how stupid whatever stupid plan you're going to come up with after watching it is." A small table wheels over, laden with movie snacks. Pepper grabs a tub and spoon. "Plus, this way I get frozen yoghurt."

Tony laughs and grabs his popcorn. "How exactly do you keep everyone else from discovering your evil genius?" Pepper gives him a _wouldn't you like to know_ look, and he gives a mock groan in response before turning to the television.

"Right, Jarvis, let's see what Papa Fury's up to this time."

_Meanwhile, at SHEILD HQ…_

Nick Fury liked to think of himself as damn near unflappable. Dealing with superheroes and secret agents was his day job, and that pretty much meant that not a single one of his employees could be called 'well-adjusted' or easy to work with (with the notable exception of Coulson, naturally). Hell, he interacted with Tony Stark on a regular basis, and hadn't killed the guy yet. Fury was a pro, he could deal with whatever shit was fired his way.

However, even he had to admit that his even his exceptional abilities had been tested since this morning, when Coulson had phoned to let him know that the Norse God of Thunder had touched down in New Mexico and was demanding an audience.

Right now, said 'God' (because really, this 'Thor' seemed more like a surfer dude in a bad production of 'Julius Ceasar') was in the conference room SHEILD reserved for diplomatic meetings, accompanied by his hangers-on. Fury remembers the name of the woman, Sif, as she'd been vaguely useful thus far. He's forgotten the names of the other three, and so is internally calling them Gimli, Casanova and Jackie Chan. At least if he slips up, they wouldn't get the references.

"Asgard is worried." Thor growls, like that's meant to mean anything at all to Fury. "There is a new king in Jotunheim, and we must know whether he poses us a threat."

Fury is about to ask for a translation, when Coulson pipes up from behind him. "…Jotunheim. You mean the land of the Frost Giants?"

Of course, Coulson would be an expert on Norse mythology. Was there anything he _didn't know_? Thor too, seems surprised, blinking a couple of times before continuing.

"Yes. We call them Jotun. They are mindless, savage monsters, friends to no one. Your Midgard would have fallen to their terror years ago, had Asgard not intervened."

"What the hell is a Midgard?" Fury asks Coulson under his breath.

"Their name for Earth." comes the reply. Fury scoffs at that.

"Like hell, we would have fallen. I ain't seen no _frost giants_ attacking Earth, and believe me, I'd have noticed."

Thor looks confused again. It seems like it might be his default expression. "I assumed that you fought in the great war." He says, whilst staring intently at Fury's eyepatch for some reason. Fury does not appreciate that, not at all. "Are you not Midgard's defenders?"

Sif leans in close to Thor, whispering something about time differences and mortal life spans. Thor no longer looks as though he might smash something, but still seems vaguely perplexed, 'whispering' back, "But it was scarce a millennia ago!"

Coulson steps forward, clearing his throat. The Asgardians look to him.

"You mentioned a new Jotun king. Does he pose a threat to Midgard?"

Fury decides to just let Coulson run with this one. Hell, he might even have to give him a raise after this.

"We do not truly know." admits Thor, in deep, heavy tones. "The Jotuns' former king, Laufey, was brutal and villainous, but he was truly bested by the Allfather and the Casket taken from him. We had an accord, as much as you can with monsters. He would not challenge Asgard, as he knew to do so would mean Jotunheim's complete destruction. This new king, we do not know. Rumours have reached Asgard that he is powerful in ways Laufey was not, that he is rebuilding Jotunheim from its ruins."

"_I_ heard that he's not a giant at all, just a weak little runt." drawls Casanova. Sif directs a glare his way, and he shuts his mouth. Fury starts wondering just what Sif and the Black Widow would make of each other. He sincerely hopes they never meet.

Coulson ignores the interjection, consummate professional that he is. "This new king, he's threatened to invade?"

Thor, Gimli and Casanova laugh. "Do not be foolish. Jotun do not threaten. They know no common decency or honour. If we wait for threats, we only give them time to plot evil."

Fury decides to cut in, because god this is getting old fast. "Okay, let's cut the storytime. What exactly do you want from us? If you hate these guys so much, why are you here and not attacking them already?"

Thor looks somewhat sheepish. "Fath- Odin deems it unwise to commence a war at this time. He wishes to first attempt diplomacy." He says the last word like it leaves a dirty taste in his mouth.

Fury taps his foot against the floor. "Still not quite seeing what help we can be here…"

Thor sighs. "The Odinsleep nears, the Allfather cannot leave Asgard. And I…" he trails off. Gimli picks up the slack.

"Last time we went to Jotunheim, Thor bested a great many Jotun. It was fine sport…they may not believe we come in peace."

Fury raises an eyebrow. "You don't say."

Thor nods. "I do, friend Fury. But the Jotun would not suspect Midgardians. If you were to send your finest warriors, they could witness the true state of affairs in Jotunheim before reporting back to us. If this king is as powerful as is told, then Asgard will strike before he can gather his strength. If he is weak, then we may be able to ensure that Jotunheim is no longer a concern to any of us."

It's getting to be more and more clear just why Thor has been rejected to lead the diplomacy team. Fury finds himself somewhat uneasy, and that takes some doing. He shares a look with Coulson. "Why, exactly, should we do this?"

Thor puffs up, hand tightening around the handle of that massive hammer that should really have made his arm fall off a while back. "Asgard is a powerful ally." he rumbles, and Fury is pretty sure he hears correctly the unspoken warning. Yeah, they'd be a powerful ally, and as an enemy, they'd crush the Earth flat.

They were nothing more than a pawn in all of this. And Fury really, _really_ hated being a pawn. But what other choice did they have?

"Let's just say we were to accept. What would we be getting ourselves into?"

Thor grins, anger gone in an instant. He's starting to remind Fury of a poorly trained Labrador puppy. And he fucking hates dogs.

"Midgard's strongest warriors would accompany us to the Bifrost. Heimdall will transport us to Jotunheim. Once there, I, Sif and the Warriors Three will set up camp at a safe distance, whilst your Midgardian warriors shall travel into Jotunheim's main city and seek an audience with the king."

Casanova snorts. "Like you can call that hunk of ice a city." Fury actually thinks he sees Sif stab the irritant with something this time. He hopes so.

"They will have diplomatic protection?" Coulson queries.

Thor nods. "Aye. Even the Jotun would not be so stupid as to provoke a war over something as silly as killing a few Midgardians."

Sif looks as though she might like to stab Thor too, were he not royalty and in the presence of company. Fury is pretty sure that the second factor is the more decisive of the two. She hisses a low, "You can't say that, Thor!" instead. Thor merely laughs.

"Do not fret, Sif, the Midgardian's know I mean them no harm!"

Fury gives him his best 'I'd like to flay you alive' stare, but Thor seems oddly unaffected. Then something occurs to him.

"Wait, just how cold is this _Jotunheim_ place? I'm not sending my best guys out there to freeze to death."

Thor shrugs. "I will be wearing my winter cloak."

"It could be likened to your Midgardian 'North Pole'." suggests Gimli. Thor pats him on the back.

"Volstagg speaks wisely. It is indeed similar. Ice and wind and much snow."

Coulson leans in towards Fury. "We have some prototype snowsuits and mobiles that were prepared for the Abominable Snowman incident last spring. They're not complete though. Funding fell through."

Fury put one hand to his brow, trying to rub away the quickly developing headache. If there was one word he hated more than any other, it was 'funding'. Suddenly, he had a horrible feeling about how this was going to go.

With a sigh, he turns back to Thor and the others. "Right. We'll need at least a week to figure out how we can make this work. We can give you accommodation, if you need it-"

"Nay, the Bifrost will return us to Asgard. You will have your week, then we shall return ready for Jotunheim."

Apparently, that's it settled. With one last nod, all five Asgardians turn and leave, almost bowling over the guard stationed at the door.

Fury sags against the table, giving Coulson a despairing look. "Do you want to tell me how the hell we manage to get involved in these things?"

Coulson grins. "Just lucky, I guess. Any ideas how we're going to come up with 'Midgard's finest warriors' and a few million dollars worth of arctic gear in a week?"

Fury has an idea. It's an idea he really doesn't want to have to consider, but there it is inside his head. Like a bad omen, his phone starts ringing, the claxon ringtone identifying the caller. Fury answers.

"Stark."

"So, you'll never guess what happened. I was just sitting here with my bags of money and freeze-resistant suit of armour, when I suddenly thought, why don't I give Nick Fury a call?"

Fury closed his working eye and gave a long, drawn out sigh. This was going to be one hell of a long week.

A/N - Thanks for reading! Two chapters for the price of one this time as I'm catching up with what I've posted on AO3. Hope you enjoyed these parts. Comments make me jump for joy, so if you'd like to leave one that would be great! (Also, I am aware that it is highly unlikely that Loki was Laufey's heir. This story doesn't depend on that being the case - how Loki came to be king will be explained in due course)


End file.
